Lowering her hand and letting out a heavy sigh, Maggie picked up the scissors and prepared herself for another onslaught.
"Having trouble there?"
Maggie squeaked and dropped the scissors. Dirk stood at the gate, leaning on the battered wood, giving her a disarming smile. Maggie felt her heart miss a beat before it stuttered. She struggled to catch her breath. Hiding her fluster, she planted her hands on her hips and glared at him.
"Have you ever allowed those soft hands of yours to tackle a rose bush?" She demanded.
"I can't say that I have." Dirk held up his gloved hands. He nodded at her right hand, which was still dripping blood. "Looks like yours have struggled to remain delicate."
Maggie grunted and turned away. She found her handkerchief and tied it round her hand. She would have to wait until she got inside before she dealt with the wound.
"If you're so worried about my hands," She sneered, "Then you come and dead-head these things."
"Haven't you got a gardener?"
"We're not rich enough for that." Maggie turned back to him and gave him another glare. "You know we're not."
He couldn't have forgotten about them, surely? Two months he had been going around with Dawn, and he had been to their house frequently. Unless being away ten years and the title made him conveniently forget.
Maggie had been proud of herself for avoiding him since Sunday, making excuses to go and do something else whenever he visited Mrs. Trainor, who Maggie found out, had been his governess. Her reaction to him in the church had scared her, and she had needed to take a few minutes outside to calm herself down. No woman of her standing should be feeling anything of that magnitude towards a man of his social class.
And after what had happened to Dawn, she didn't want to go down the same path.
Dirk straightened up and entered the garden, closing the gate behind him. He approached her with a frown. Maggie forced herself to stay where she was although her feet were itching to move.
Dirk stopped a few feet away. Not close enough to touch but close enough for Maggie to be uncomfortable.
"Why are you so sharp with me?" He asked. "I'm just trying to make conversation."
"You haven't introduced yourself properly." Maggie knew she was pedantic since she already knew who he was, but her reaction to him was making her prickly. "Didn't your mother teach you manners of your social stature?"
"Why to bother when you know who I am?"
"I know exactly who you are, Dirk Stowers, but that doesn't mean you can be so familiar."
"I know, Maggie."
Maggie blinked. His response had thrown her a little.
"You know who I am?" She said weakly.
"I remember a little girl with pigtails who idolized her sister." Dirk's eyes seemed to darken as he looked at her. "How is Dawn, by the way?"
"She's married with a baby on the way."
"That's good for her." Dirk sounded genuinely pleased. He smiled. "And I'm not going to ask anything more about her if your tone is anything to go by. I learned my lesson."
"I should hope so." Maggie snorted. Her hand fiddled with the handkerchief, biting back a wince as it scraped against her wound. "What are you doing in the village, anyway?"
"I was walking to Mr. Wright's, the blacksmith. He's putting new shoes on my horse." Dirk looked at her thoughtfully. "Do you ride?"
"No."
"Would you like to learn?"
Maggie's eyes widened. Had he asked her if she would like riding lessons? Maggie had never been on a horse, and she had no intention of getting on one.
"Not really." Although the thought of having Dirk Stowers teaching her to ride a horse did sound tempting. But not overly tempting. "The beastly things scare me."
Dirk grinned.
"They're a bit like men. They're all right when you get to know them."
"I prefer to keep out of the way." Maggie quipped.
"Even men?"
"Depends on the man."
Then Maggie realized what she had said and turned away, her cheeks getting hot. She heard Dirk laugh, a deep sounding laugh that had her shivering.
She couldn't take any more. She had to get out of there before she did something to embarrass herself even more. Maggie turned back and dropped into a quick curtsy, staring at the floor.
"I've got to go. Good day, Your Grace. Have a safe journey home."
Before Dirk could answer Maggie was hurrying indoors. It was only inside that she realized she hadn't collected her gardening tools.
But she didn't venture back outside until she was sure he had gone.
Chapter 5
A Forced Groom-To-Be
D irk couldn't stop thinking about Maggie as he rode back to the house. Black-Briar was in good spirits now he had new shoes and galloped smoothly along the track. But Dirk wasn't thinking about how nice the ride back home was. He was thinking about a redheaded woman who seemed to be so terrified of him that she ran away.
Dirk wasn't sure what to make of Maggie Reynolds. The woman had him tied up in knots, unsure of what was going on. For a moment he thought she was wary of him because of his status. The next moment she seemed genuinely interested, her hazel eyes widening and her pupils changing size. Then she pulled away and looked scared that she was even thinking anything towards him.
She was a mass of contradictions. And Dirk was surprised to find that he actually liked it. She wasn't boring like so many girls he had come across in the London season. Maggie was an interesting girl.
And Dirk wanted to know more.
As his home came in sight, Dirk slowed Black-Briar to a trot when he saw the big carriage outside the front doors. It wasn't one of his; his mother would have announced days in advance if she was going on a journey and she had said nothing about it. It looked like several large trunks were being carried from the carriage into the house.
Dirk groaned. Rebecca had probably one of her old cronies come to stay to keep her company again. That meant several weeks of listening to the two of them harp about anyone and everyone within their grasp. Dirk hated having to sit in and listen to them, wishing he could escape to the library.
Who thought becoming a duke would make him a bookish person?
Dirk urged Black-Briar into a gallop and reached the sweeping drive. Slater stood on the steps, directing each of the servants and ushering the driver of the newly arrived carriage towards the stables. Dirk dismounted, and one of the footmen hurried over to take the reins. Barely giving him a glance, Dirk hurried over to Slater.
"What's going on here, Slater?"
"It's Lady Clarke, Your Grace." Slater didn't look happy. His face was flushed. "She's inside with the Lady Dowager."
"She's what?"
Dirk couldn't believe his ears. Rebecca knew perfectly well that the woman was not welcome in his home. What was she up to?
"What on earth is she doing here?"
"I don't know." Slater's mouth is twisted in distaste. "The Lady Dowager didn't notify me of Lady Clarke's impending visit until shortly after you left." He glanced towards the house. "And, judging by the several trunks we've just carried in, she's going to be here for a very long time."
That didn't bode well. Dirk felt a sinking feeling as his stomach dropped. Rebecca had something planned, and she was about to reveal it. Dirk knew he wasn't going to like it, especially if it involved Emma Clarke, a woman Dirk detested.
"Where are they now?"
"I think they're in the morning room."
Fighting back his anger, Dirk stormed into the house. Servants saw him coming and got out the way, bowing or curtsying quickly before hurrying away. They rarely saw Dirk angry and sensed that it was best to not be present when he lost it.
The ladies were in the morning room when Dirk barged in. One of the maids was pouring out tea for them. She straightened up quickly and dropped into a curtsy, nearly knocking the table over. Rebecca glared at her.
"You stupid girl, watch what you're doing." Then she turn
ed to her son and smiled. "Dirk, there you are. We were beginning to wonder where you'd gone."
"Mother," Dirk growled. He turned to look at the woman seated on the sofa beside his mother. "Lady Clarke."
"Dirk."
Emma Clarke gave him a gracious nod. Her blonde hair was piled up on her head, and she was dressed smartly in an emerald-green dress. Delicate lace gloves covered her hands. She was an attractive woman, Dirk couldn't deny that, but he had seen the ugly side of her and her jealous streak whenever he was around. While he liked to think a woman wanted him, he didn't like the possessiveness. And Emma had gone over the top with her possessive attitude.
He turned to Rebecca, clenching his hands into fists.
"What is she doing here, Mother? You know I've forbidden her from coming here, and I certainly didn't authorize her presence today."
Rebecca wrinkled her nose and gave him a disapproving look.
"Dirk," She said stiffly, "That's not the way to talk about your future bride."
"Bride?" Dirk suddenly felt cold. "What do you mean by bride?"
Emma smiled.
"Lady Rebecca told me that you were looking for a wife. She offered the role of Duchess to me, and I immediately agreed."
Of course, she would. Emma had expressed that she wanted to be Dirk's wife whenever she got the chance. It was bordering on scary the way she was certain she would become Dirk's duchess.
Not if Dirk had any say about it. He glared at her mother.
"Can I see you in my study, Mother?" He gave Emma a glare, not caring that he was rude. "Alone?"
He turned and stormed out before Rebecca had a chance to object.
***
"Emma Clarke is the woman you've arranged for me to marry?" Dirk struggled not to raise his voice as he paced around his study. "Have you lost your mind?"
Rebecca sat in the chair she usually sat in whenever she graced the room, sitting as she normally did with her hands in her lap, her back straight and her head up. She raised an eyebrow at him.
"What's the problem, Dirk? Emma's beautiful and young. She comes with money and from a prestigious family. She loves you. She has done for years, and you know it."
"Mother, Emma Clarke has been obsessed with me for years." Dirk snapped. "That's not love. And this obsession is not healthy. She is constantly following me around, trying to hang off my arm and get me alone. She tries to force any woman who tries to talk to me away. My friends think it's funny, but I find it downright annoying." He shuddered. "Not to mention scary."
When he had first met Emma in their first season at eighteen, Dirk had been interested. Emma had grace, beauty, and a quick wit. But after a few meetings, Dirk had begun to realize that Emma's attention to him was not good. He had his share of women fawning over him, mainly due to his standing, but Emma was the worst. His first season had been ruined because of her.
He wasn't about to let her ruin the rest of his life.
"Rubbish." Rebecca snorted. "She loves you."
"She doesn't know what love is, Mother!" Dirk slumped onto the sofa, rubbing his hands over his face. Somehow he knew this wasn't going to his mother's head, and they had been arguing for twenty minutes. "Whenever I was trying to court someone, and that has happened, she was always there hanging around. I had to go discreetly and see people in secret in case Emma threatened them."
"What are you talking about? Emma's a sweet girl. She wouldn't say a bad thing about anyone."
"Try telling that to Phoebe Thompson."
Phoebe Thompson had been Dirk's first love. She had captured his attention the second he saw her when they were twenty. Dirk had been hoping to ask Phoebe to marry him. Then Emma had found out and had gone to Phoebe's house. She had threatened Phoebe, promising that she would regret marrying Dirk if she carried on their relationship. While the family hadn't reported her actions, they had been so scared for Phoebe they had shipped her off to Ireland to live with relatives. Dirk never saw her again.
If they had married, Phoebe would be his duchess by now. But that dream had died as well as his love for her.
Rebecca snorted rudely.
"Phoebe was a flighty woman who wasn't worthy of you. She wouldn't have made a good duchess."
"I loved her, and I wasn't even in contention for the title." Dirk shot back. "And then Emma ruined it by chasing her off." He stood up, running his hands through his hair. "Emma has to go home right this minute. She's not becoming my wife."
Rebecca stood to face him. Her face was white with anger, her mouth hardened into a thin line.
"She is not going anywhere." She glared at him. "And neither are you."
"How did you know my leaving would be my next thing?"
"Because you're my son, Dirk. I know you. You're now going to go out of your way to avoid her." Rebecca smoothed her hands down her skirt. "I've talked things through with Emma's father and he agrees that this will be a good match. He's been expecting you to call on him for years."
"And I'll be dead or broken by the end of the month," Dirk growled.
"Don't be ridiculous." Rebecca sniffed. "Your wedding is set to be held in five weeks. In the meantime, Emma is going to stay here as my guest." She set her icy glare on her son. "You are to talk to her, show her around the land, and to spend time with her. You are not to ignore her."
"Oh, really?" Dirk sneered. "I thought I was the one in charge in this house."
"Not when it comes to marriage." Rebecca shot back. "You do your duty, Dirk. At your level, love doesn't come into it."
Dirk knew that. He didn't like it, but he knew that. While he didn't expect to marry a woman he didn't love, he didn't think he should be forced to marry a woman he couldn't stand.
"If we marry, Mother, don't expect any children. I can barely stand to be in the same room as her, let alone the same bed."
"Dirk!"
Rebecca's face flushed. Glad he had got a reaction out of her other than ice-cold calm, Dirk turned away, effectively dismissing her. From Rebecca's angry snarl and stomping footsteps, she got the message.
This was going to be a long month.
Chapter 6
Regaining Control
T here was a knock at the door. It opened a moment later, and Slater came in, carrying a tray.
"Your Grace? I thought you might like your breakfast in here."
Dirk turned from the washbasin, cleaning his face of shaving foam with a towel. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. His cook was worth her weight in gold. And so was Slater for bringing it to him instead of making him go downstairs.
"Thank you, Slater. You're a godsend."
Slater grinned as he placed the tray on the table by the window. The plate of food was also joined by a teapot, a cup and saucer and cutlery.
"It was actually Mrs. Edwards' idea. She thought you looked so miserable this past week in the dining hall so she decided to give you a treat."
Dirk had never felt more gratitude for someone right at that moment. He sat at the table, allowing Slater to place a napkin on his lap.
"Then the same goes for Mrs. Edwards. She's a gem."
"That she is."
Slater stood nearby as Dirk wolfed down his food. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until right then. Because of the dinner company, Dirk had barely eaten, his appetite suddenly gone. Rebecca and Emma had eaten as normal, chatting away happily and discussing marriage arrangements. Dirk wanted to stop them, but they didn't listen to him, merely talking over him or ignoring him completely.
After a week of this, he had had enough. His mother wasn't taking a direct order to send Emma away, and Emma couldn't understand that she wasn't wanted. It was driving Dirk mad.
"Where are the ladies?" He asked as he sipped his tea.
"They were in the breakfast room when I came up. They almost caught me with the tray." Slater raised his eyebrows. "The Lady Dowager is angry that you're not downstairs for breakfast and Lady Clarke keeps asking when you're going to
make an appearance. She wants to go to the shops in the village."
"Does she?"
If Dirk had a say in it, he would never make an appearance in Emma's life again. She was intimidating and forward, far too much for him. While he liked a woman to have a bit of independence, Emma's personality and attitude made him want to run the other way. He had tried to do that for the last nine days, but Emma kept pursuing him. Slater had helped to keep her away by covering for him, but there was only so much his loyal servant could do.
"Why don't you tell your mother that you don't want to be married to Lady Clarke?" Slater asked.
"I've tried." Dirk sighed, finishing off his toast and sitting back. While his appetite was sated, the food now felt like lead in his stomach. "For the best part of a week I've tried, but Mother seems to ignore anything of that nature. She hears only what she wants to hear."
Which was typical of Rebecca Stowers; she had a habit of not listening when she should be.
"But you're the duke, Your Grace." Slater pointed out. "You could break the marriage contract, couldn't you, even if it wasn't arranged by you?"
"I'm already doing that. I've written to her father, telling him that this marriage is not suitable, and I will return Lady Clarke's dowry as well as the would-be bride at the earliest convenience." Dirk had wanted to say a lot more than that, but he didn't want to be rude to the man. He hadn't done anything except believe his daughter's lies because he was devoted to her. "I'm just waiting for a reply, and then we can get rid of her."
"It shouldn't take long, then."
"I hope not." Dirk had a feeling this could drag on for a long time. He stood, putting the napkin on the table. "Help me finish dressing. I'm going to head to church. And don't tell Mother where I've gone."
"I don't plan to." Slater looked amused. "She wouldn't believe me that you go to church now, anyway."
Dirk chuckled. That was true enough. He had expressed such distaste for attending church in the past. Now he went whenever he could, which was a lot. He was probably there more than the vicar.
There was also another reason for going today. Maggie Reynolds would be there. According to Duckie, she went to church every Sunday. She was devoted to her faith. Dirk knew this would be a good chance to see her and hopefully, talk to her.
Regency Romances Page 13